


Fears And Feelings: Friendship

by Corvus_Aconitum



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: "I Didn't Mean It", Concern and so many feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Nick Rosalee friendship, Nick Whump, Nick is too stubborn, Platonic Cuddling, Rosalee needs to be emotional once in a while, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus_Aconitum/pseuds/Corvus_Aconitum
Summary: Waking up in the Spice Shop after being poisoned on a case Nick does a lot to keep Rosalee from worrying too much. Only that this time his efforts aren't taken with her usual patience. When for once she loses her temper, fears and feelings come out into the open and they realize that they really need to talk least their friendship suffers from it.Fluff and angst ensue.NON-ROMANTIC!FRIENDSHIP!
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Rosalee Calvert
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Fears And Feelings: Friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissCrazyWriter321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/gifts).



> MissCrazyWriter321, a while ago we've chatted about Nick & Rosalee friendship and, well, this came off it. A little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me. I hope you enjoy this little tidbit of Nick-Rosie-fluff. :D

Fears and Feelings: Friendship 

Nick wakes with a low groan. 

_God, I feel awful._

He remembers snatches of a fight, of pain, fear and paralyzing weakness. Jolting up from where he's lying when snatches of memories come back to him he finds to his great relief that he's in the backroom of the Spice Shop. He sinks back down - heart still beating like mad - bites back on any sound that may escape him. 

_It's okay. Safe. I' m… safe. Need to calm down. No need to go crazy…. Just… breathe._

His mind is working so damn slow, trying to catch up with things and failing to grasp the whole picture. He forces himself to wait. Needs time to remember and take stock. 

_It's okay. I'm safe._

He looks around, a weak smile forming when he fully takes in where he is. What that means. 

_Home…. My friends. They saved me…._

He closes his eyes, momentarily content. Every fiber of his body may ache, every muscle shake from exhaustion but this is where he feels safe, because this is home. And although he doesn't remember much of what happened before, hearing Rosalee's soft voice drifting over from the front room settles him in a way that little else can. He'll give himself a few more moments to come to himself, then he will take a look at what everybody is up to. 

And if deep down he knows that getting up is unwise, then the need to reassure his friends that they can stop worrying weighs out any doubts he may have. 

_They've worried enough. They've had cause to…. I think…. It's all fuzzy._

>>>

Just when the doorbell rings indicating that her last customer has left, a small noise from the backroom makes her heart soar with joy and her body quiver with the faintest sort of tension. Upon turning sure enough she finds Nick leaning against the doorframe. He is looking much better than hours ago, which only means that he looks like death warmed over instead of at death's door. 

_Hours ago…. When he has nearly…._

"Hey, Rosie." The hoarse whisper pulls her from her uneasy thoughts and she's glad, but…. A shiver runs down her spine. Nick's voice isn't rough from disuse, it is from the screams. 

She manages a smile for him - genuine and warm - relief to see him alive making her almost weak-kneed. Under her intent gaze he pushes away from the doorframe to make his slow way over to her. Concern churns in her gut, protectiveness coaxing the fox close to the surface. Something burns on her tongue, dying to be spoken out loud. She swallows it down to say instead:

"Hey, Nick. You cannot imagine how good it is to see you awake." She cuts herself off before a traitorous wobble in her voice can fully bloom. He smiles at this - rueful, a little shameful, just as if he cannot believe he's worth such fuss. 

And of course he trudges on, paling, grimacing in pain yet not stopping at what he's doing. Rosalee watches completely still, tensing unconsciously. Seeing him do this somehow rubs her the wrong way. Maybe because the sight of his struggle now is overlaid by flashes of seeing him face a very different struggle earlier. She represses another shudder, right hand seeking the hem of her woolen button down sweater. 

_He is so damn stubborn! He has almost died a few hours ago, God damn it!_

"Nick, wait. Are you sure you should be walking around?" Her question is gentle enough but that glint in hazel eyes should tell the Grimm to take her serious. And he would do it, too, if it had been about anyone else's health but that of himself. Or maybe, if he hadn't been this close to collapsing. When he doesn't react she tells herself to stay calm. Her friend is just ticking like that. Others come first, full stop. 

He glances up shortly then, flashes a tired smile. 

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Feeling much better already."

While that doesn't fool anyone, he keeps to it as if his own assertion could make it true. Another few paces. He's almost reached the shop counter. And the chair which seems like a life line right now. He ignores dizzy spells and a blinding headache that has settled firmly behind his eyes and instead zeroes in on his goal. No need to make his friend worry. He has made it out alive so he can brave this as well. 

"Nick, I _really_ think that you shouldn't walk around."

He must have heard the strain in her voice, that little hint at her patience waning, for he fully faces her this time, studying her and seeming to put aside all that considerate pain in order to focus fully on what she isn't saying but clearly projecting….

Not that this would make him act any more responsible where his own well-being is concerned. 

"It's okay, really. It's not that bad. Where's Monroe? And… uuh… Hank, Renard and Wu. They have been there, too, haven't they?" 

She admires Nick's strength of will and surely a lot is needed simply to keep upright at this point, but if she has to listen to a single other variant of 'I'm fine.' she swears she's going to scream! Her fists are both clenched now and she hasn't moved from her spot while Nick has made it to the work table near the counter. His brow is dotted with perspiration and he's just about hanging on. His above average awareness shot to pieces now by his rapidly deteriorating state. With his hands braced against the flat surface and eyes squeezed shut he remains where he is, trying to get his bearings. To master the pain that is clenching around him like a vice. His breath is coming in small, strained gasps, tuning out much of everything around him. Otherwise he might have recognized the signs. He is still struggling or he might have seen this coming:

" _Nick Burkhardt_ , if you don't move back to that bed, with my help if need be, I will no longer be responsible for my actions!!" 

Nick's head whips around to her and, oh, that must have hurt! 

>>>

She's very near to him all of a sudden. Nick doesn't understand. Her eyes are blazing with infamous fuchsbau anger - difficult to set aflame yet burning all the fiercer once stoked. But it isn't anger, is it? It is anguish and sadness and fear for him! The same fear he has seen in her eyes earlier today…. 

When he has been cradled in her arms closer to death than to life and suddenly it's clear. He remembers. Oh shit, he remembers it all! 

_Damn it… I have… have really botched up this time…._

>>>

Something in her has snapped, like a string cut in two, ends fraying and developing a vicious life of their own. She's always sensible, always calm and gentle Ms. Calvert but she isn't now. She's so _angry_! So damn worried for her friend and frustrated and simply not knowing how else she can get her message across!

"Rosalee…." 

It's such a soft whisper, crestfallen and fueled by a perception that is almost eery. Even now. She stubbornly blinks away tears as she steps up to him and takes his arm. 

"Back to bed with you _now_. Whatever you think, you are _not_ in any condition to be up and about! You stubborn idiot… you nearly _died_ today! And I couldn't…. Oh, damn it, just lie back down and rest!"

Despite her harsh tone her hands are gentle and supportive when leading him back to the very familiar cot he has woken up on. Nick for his part is silent as a grave, just as if her scolding has taken all the words right out of his mouth. It is shame, she knows, but her anguish - and her own guilt - is too great right now to let it mollify her. 

>>>

She helps him settle back down onto the bed and the knowledge that this has been a last minute thing before he would have collapsed anyway is burning in his gut as clearly as it is reflected in her deep hazel gaze. She murmurs something about fetching a zaubertrank to help him and then she's gone, leaving him with a lump in his throat the size of a baseball and the certainty that his unthinking behavior has hurt his friend. It isn't of any consequence now that he's meant well. He's wanted to make things better, to make her worry less by playing things down, and instead he has rubbed it right in her face. If he thought he has felt bad before, he's feeling ten times worse now. 

With a sigh that stays lodged somewhere deep in his chest he curls up and does what Rosalee has told him to do. 

>>>

Coming here Rosalee has intended to fetch a remedy for Nick. Establish some distance to what has happened and clear her head. Instead of that her eyes are swimming with tears and her mind is swamped with memories:

_A case. A fight._

_Just like so many others yet at the end of it Nick has been stung by a Gruenkaefer - an insect like wesen - has been poisoned and…._

_Has been dying right there in my arms._

_I haven't been able to do a single, effing thing! Could do nothing more than to hold him while he's been screaming in agony…._

Renard has been the one to get there last minute with an antidote, jamming the needle right into his Detective's thigh to inject the substance into his bloodstream. 

That hasn't been the end of it, though. It hasn't been that easy. It has taken hours of suffering, of keeping vigil by his side and taking care of him as he's been laid up on that cot. 

She has felt so helpless and all her work later on hasn't been enough to obliterate the feeling of gut wrenching fear for her best friend. The desperation of being right there and unable to do anything! She hates feeling powerless just as she's done as a youth when she's felt constrained by rules and expectations, that her rebellious teenage mind couldn't abide by. She has changed a lot since then but some things will never do. 

She takes a deep breath, calms herself with the familiar motions of grinding, cutting and mixing. 

While she can be passionate - and just a little scary, if Monroe's awe filled comment is to be believed - when one of her loved ones is threatened, she is also a self-reflective person. Has become one after she's started to gain perspective on her destructive way of living back then. Matters stand different now. She has Monroe, has friends and a job that makes her happy. She isn't the rash, easily irascible girl from back then and so she inevitably asks herself, if her worry and guilt gives her the right to snap at Nick like that. To make him feel guilty for something he's done while barely fit enough to think straight at all. 

She knows the honest answer to that and with that comes the realization that they need to talk. 

>>>

"Hey, Nick."

The Grimm goes from almost asleep to wide awake in a moment, roused instinctively by her tone, which is a far cry from her earlier stern scolding. He hears her regret, an apology even before she has voiced it in so much as words. But he doesn't want her apology. There isn't anything she should be apologizing for. Her hand touches his shoulder. Hesitant yet warm, steady and reassuring. He relaxes a fraction although he knows he shouldn't take her comfort when it's been him messing things up. 

"Come on, I'll help you sit up a bit, hmm? To take that zaubertrank I've brought, okay?" 

He nods, unable to look at her now because he doesn't know what to say to make it right between them again.

_Apologizing would be a start, wouldn't it?_

She slips her hands under his shoulders with a natural ease as if all else has no impact on her caring nature. And it hasn't. Nick knows no one more caring and kind than his friend. 

"Rosie, I'm sorry…."

"Shh. Let's get this done first and then we can talk."

He gasps softly at being moved. Shit, he doesn't want to show it least Rosalee feels bad for causing him pain but, hell, everything hurts so much. 

"Almost there, Nick. Here, drink this. It will help…."

It's a soothing murmur that Nick cannot help reacting to. He droops a bit, sagging against her side while the raging pain, that seems centered in his skull and going out from there, abates to something marginally more manageable. 

"Better?" This low spoken inquiry is voiced after a long stretch of silence. 

This time their Grimm knows better than to brush her concerns off yet finds his tongue tied. 

"Nick." 

He chances a look. Her tone is amicable enough, just a gentle nudge to open up to her and be honest. What encourages him in the end are those big, expressive hazel eyes, or better yet the warmth contained in them. 

The message is clear: _You've messed up? Probably. Is this the end of all that makes us friends? Never in a million years!_

A small smile blooms on tired, still far too pale features. It's careful, rueful. So much Nick. An explosive sigh, then:

"Your zaubertrank was a life saver…." He says only to trail off looking stricken at his choice of words. 

"Shit, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. Not like that…. I didn't want to remind you…. Not after…."

"Nick…. _Hey_ …."

She places a careful hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing, soothing. 

"Hey, it's okay. I know you didn't mean anything by it. Let's just…. Oh God, we're right a pair, aren't we?" 

Her embarrassed laugh turns into a wet sound right there at the end. It's containing a well of emotions this close to brimming over but Nick isn't any better off. 

"Yeah, we are." The words are raw with emotion and his tone so soft. He swallows thickly. They lock eyes, keep looking at each other - helpless, clueless - knowing what they want to express and yet unable to put it in words. 

In a way this is new to them. Normally they don't need to _talk_. That isn't to say that they don't talk per se, it's just that these _we need to talk_ moments are normally between Monroe and Nick. 

In the end there aren't any words needed. Not yet. With a sad smile tugging at his lips Nick holds out an arm in silent invitation. He grunts in pain and his arm is trembling from the sheer effort of doing even this but Rosalee doesn't need to think long before she carefully, oh so carefully, leans into his side and allows him to draw her into a one armed hug. Pulling her thick woolen jacket tighter around herself she rests her head against his shoulder, both giving twin gushes of relieved sighs. 

_A first step._

They sit in silence for a long time, leaning with their backs against the iron wrought bed frame and starting with just _showing_ what they feel. Starting with simple comfort. 

>>>

"I'm sorry, you know? I acted like an idiot. You put all that effort into saving me and I…."

The fuchsbau shakes her head. Now that she's had time to think, she's not nearly as angry with her friend as she's been. 

"I know you meant well. You may be too stubborn for your own good but you weren't the most clear headed either, now were you? I shouldn't have snapped at you for something you did while sick…."

"Rosalee, stop." 

That reprimand, while gentle, doesn't brook arguments either. It's essentially saying: Stop trying to find excuses for me. I behaved like a total idiot, fuzzy-headed or not. 

He quirks a smile then - rueful, almost shy - as his gaze strays to the side once more. The uncompromising glint in his eyes has vanished in favor of his normal, kind and genuine persona. Rosalee marvels time and time again how their Grimm can combine these characteristics - fighting, even killing if necessary while still keeping a precious piece of innocence. Maybe it is because that hard core of steel is born out of Nick's strongest drive: The need to protect others. 

And that…. Well, that brings them back to the core of the problem, doesn't it?

>>>

It's silent in the back room of the Spice Shop. They are both ordering their thoughts and, in Nick's case, gathering strength to continue this conversation. Rosalee has her piece to say but she also has the feeling that Nick needs to get his part off his chest first. She leans her head back against Nick's shoulder, signaling him that she's there to listen while her gaze strays out into the room. Her focus shifts along with it, settling on his words, on emotions carried by the timber of his voice:

"Rosalee, you know that I would never intentionally hurt you but I know I did and I am sorry. It must have felt like a punch to the gut to see me walking around and ignoring your advice. I wanted you to worry _less_ …. Especially after all you've done to save me. I remember parts of it now, you know? Mostly those when I… when I writhed in agony and you…. you were there and helped me through it. You kept me from going insane."

So much emotion, so much regret in that rough murmur. And it must cost him dearly to say even this much. Not because he has difficulties admitting this but because of the strain it puts on severely abused vocal cords. 

_Those screams. God, the way he has screamed…._

She swallows and works consciously to concentrate back on Nick instead of her own horrible memories. Half turning in his embrace she looks at him, this time taking in every nuance of his expression. His eyes speak to her the most. They are like the storm-whipped sea, a well of conflicted feelings in their depths. Rosalee could have ended his conflict here. She could have told Nick that she forgives him - which she truly does - and tell him to rest some more. 

And in a way she does: Leaning into him some more - _showing_ him forgiveness before voicing it - she speaks up softly:

"Nick, I _know_ this. And I am glad that I could be there for you but… but… that isn't all. Yeah, seeing you act like that has hurt… has dredged up memories that would much rather forget because seeing you suffer like that was terrible… but you know what has hurt more? What was even more terrible remembering…?"

Her voice is breaking, tears this close to spilling over and only held at bay by her own considerable strength of will. She clenches her eyes shut tight, is in doubt if she ought to draw nearer to her friend or pull away. 

_I have failed him._

She draws away in the end when gut wrenching guilt makes her think she will suffocate from it. It ties her tongue and makes her lower her gaze in an attempt to hide all that is going through her head right now. She is sure that once she tells him about _all_ that has transpired, all about her _failure_ , his face will close off and he will know that it isn't _he_ who should be ashamed. The thought fills her with fear and regret. 

_I don't want to lose him as a friend. But I have failed him and he ought to know the truth. I couldn't save him. If it hadn't been for Sean…._

"Rosie, what is troubling you? I can _see_ that something is wrong! Tell me what it is, you are scaring me!" 

It jolts her out of her stupor. Makes her look up and directly into his eyes. All her emotions are laid bare in face of his naked fear. Nick doesn't normally show fear. He is brave and forthright. To think that he is revealing all this because he is worried about her makes the last of her defenses crumble. She tries hiding it but, of course, Nick takes up on it. Even now he can depict the workings of the human mind more clearly than he often can his own. And with almost unerring accuracy no less. It impresses and frightens her in equal measures, not because of the Grimm in him or some such nonsense but because for all her righteous admonishment earlier he may discover that she has been powerless instead of helpful. That she isn't worth his concern…. 

Her thoughts are turning around in circles and she doesn't even realize it until Nick tightens their half embrace and whispers:

"Hey, hey, talk to me, please. Stewing in silence isn't healthy, remember? You told me that once…. Or maybe it was Monroe but that's beside the point. Just…. Just tell me what makes you so upset. I want to help. I'm here to listen, okay?"

"There isn't far you could go in your state, anyway, is there?" 

It should have been light and teasing. To alleviate his worry yet it comes out on a half-sob. This is it…. It all wells up in her and there's nothing she can do to keep the dam from breaking. 

"Oh, Rosie…." So soft. So caring that it chokes her up even more. He doesn't say anything else after that, not for a while. Just pulls her into his arms, no matter how much the action must hurt in his current state and she understands what he wants to tell her. All without words. 

Forgiveness doesn't need words. 

He _knows_ what has happened and despite that he doesn't turn away. 

She buries her face in his shirt, doesn't check her reaction now as half-sobs wrack her small frame. At long last she finds the courage to speak up. No matter that he already knows, she has to tell him in her own words. 

Admit to her guilt:

"The… the problem is, that I _couldn't_ help you! You were… you were dying right there… in my arms and I could only watch. It hasn't… hasn't been _me_ saving you. If it hadn't been for the Captain, you would be… would be dead now. How could I snap at you for what you did after… I failed you like that?"

Heavy silence, then:

He doesn't push her away, he only nudges her a tiny bit to make her look up. She cannot help keeping their eyes locked after this, not at what she reads in those grey depths. Nick shakes his head and there it is again. That steadfast core, the unending calm that could put even the Captain to shame. 

"Rosalee, I _remember_ all that but you are wrong. I mean, it's a little difficult to forget Renard sticking a needle into my thigh…. You _helped_! You kept me right here in this world. You kept me from slipping off until Renard could administer the antidote and afterwards it was you taking care of me. It's true, this time you couldn't save me on your own but you _did_ save me with the help of the others. I cannot count the number of times you have patched me up and it isn't pure chance that I've woken up on this cot thinking that….. Thinking that waking up here feels like _home_!"

The last comes out barely audible but is filled with a world of positive emotion. Silence follows once more - companionable. They need it now. They only need each other's closeness after the events of today. After all the fear and worry. Two dear friends sharing so much more than a simple hug. 

>>>

"That cot will _so_ have your name on it, Nick. And I'm not making empty threats either. I'll set Monnie to the task as soon as he's back."

Their chuckles just will out, a bit watery but ridding the room of its heavy atmosphere. 

"I'll make sure to bear that and any teasing stoically. I mean, many famous people have name tags on a sick bed…. Maybe…. Or maybe they are luckier than me and less trouble prone and…. Are you _laughing_ at me while I'm baring my heart at you?" 

"No, never me. I would never even _dream_ of doing that…."

The mirth in her eyes belies all that and makes Nick happier than any teasing ought to do. He doesn't care. As long as things are good between them again, she may tease him all she likes. 

Seeing her smile is good. 

So, so good! 

>>>

"Rosie, just out of curiosity: Where _are_ the others?" 

"Out hunting. They don't take kindly to their Grimm being poisoned. I expected no less from Monnie, Hank and Drew but even Sean looked like he was barely keeping his 'biest under wraps."

"Huh, that's new…."

"Or not so much. I didn't know he could run that fast…. And I do have a fairly good estimation of possible zauberbiest strength."

Nick quirks a cheeky smile that puts dimples to the corners of his mouth and makes the female population of Portland swoon. 

"What can I say, I tend to grow on people."

"You mean like moss on a tree?" 

"Noo!" 

He would have shoved her for that comment but his recuperation isn't so far along to manage the feat. And she _is_ a lady, after all. 

"Well, at least you didn't say _fungus on a damp wall_. Monroe would have said that, the evil man! And… I don't know… more like a puppy. You know the ones sitting in a box on the sidewalk, looking up at you and silently begging you to take them home."

Her mock serious demeanor is losing much of its credibility when she dissolves into giggles at the image of him as a puppy. 

"Well, puppy or no, you've definitely found a home here. Just don't tell Monnie. He likes to have an illusion of privacy and, believe me, our love life would suffer greatly, if he knew you could barge in here at any given moment."

Nick chuckles. 

"I'm not sure I've wanted to know that last bit but having a home here…. Having a home here is great."

A dip of her petite head and a warm smile answering to all that is left unspoken. It is enough because it's not always words which express what we really want to say. They have learned that today and so much more. 

When the others return later it is to find Nick fast asleep with his head on Rosalee's shoulder and even their fuchsbau lady looking like has just been woken by the sounds of their entry.

It is Renard quietly asking, if everything is alright and Rosalee finds that she can affirm it whole-heartedly. The tall man keeps his ever knowing gaze on them for a few moments longer before he retreats back to the front room with a nod that is almost regal and speaks of a deeper understanding than he is letting on. Like always. Some things simply never change while others do:

Like Nick's and her need to have a serious talk and them working through a conflict together. If anyone were to ask her, Rosie is sure that in the end this has only strengthened their friendship.

_No wonder that Nick and Monnie are such close friends now. They've had enough conflicts to work through for sure._

**Author's Note:**

> This is it, fluff and angst like it says on the tin. ;)   
> Hope it wasn't too emotional, I just felt like these two needed some emotional release and cuddling, lots and lots of cuddling!


End file.
